d his device, and, in the hands of the God, let forth an Omen, an
evil belly-tenant, with tidings of worse, and a speedy sneeze thereafter.
Apollo heard, and dropped renowned Hermes on the ground, then sat down
before him, eager as he was to be gone, chiding Hermes, and thus he
spoke:

"Take heart, swaddling one, child of Zeus and Maia. By these thine Omens
shall I find anon the sturdy kine, and thou shalt lead the way."

So spake he, but swiftly arose Cyllenian Hermes, and swiftly fared,
pulling about his ears his swaddling bands that were his shoulder
wrapping. Then spake he:

"Whither bearest thou me, Far-darter, of Gods most vehement? Is it for
wrath about thy kine that thou thus provokest me? Would that the race of
kine might perish, for thy cattle have I not stolen, nor seen another
steal, whatsoever kine may be; I know but by hearsay, I! But let our
suit be judged before Zeus Cronion."

Now were lone Hermes and the splendid son of Leto point by point
disputing their pleas, Apollo with sure knowledge was righteously seeking
to convict renowned Hermes for the sake of his kine, but he with craft
and cunning words sought to beguile,--the Cyllenian to beguile the God of
the Silver Bow. But when the wily one found one as wily, then speedily
he strode forward through the sand in front, while behind came the son of
Zeus and Leto. Swiftly they came to the crests of fragrant Olympus, to
father Cronion they came, these goodly sons of Zeus, for there were set
for them the balances of doom. Quiet was snowy Olympus, but they who
know not decay or death were gathering after gold-throned Dawn. Then
stood Hermes and Apollo of the Silver Bow before the knees of Zeus, the
Thunderer, who inquired of his glorious Son, saying:

"Phoebus, whence drivest thou such mighty spoil, a new-born babe like a
Herald? A mighty matter this, to come before the gathering of the Gods!"

Then answered him the Prince, Apollo the Far-darter:

"Father, anon shalt thou hear no empty tale; tauntest thou me, as though
I were the only lover of booty? This boy have I found, a finished
reiver, in the hills of Cyllene, a long way to wander; so fine a knave as
I know not among Gods or men, of all robbers on earth. My kine he stole
from the meadows, and went driving them at eventide along the loud sea
shores, straight to Pylos. Wondrous were the tracks, a thing to marvel
on, work of a glorious god. For the black dust showed the tracks of the